


carry

by sakon



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash, a birthday fic 4 or so months late
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 08:08:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25347487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakon/pseuds/sakon
Summary: Masumi wasn't so sure if he was unphased.  If he leaned closer he'd be able to hear his heartbeat or see the fine details in his skin, though the view of his face was fine. More than fine, actually. He looked quite fine. If he rested his head on his shoulder, Juza would more than likely let him rest there, and it wouldn't be so bad.Masumi swallowed.Masumi has the tendency to nap in shitty places. Juza is nice enough to carry him.
Relationships: Hyoudou Juuza/Usui Masumi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	carry

**Author's Note:**

> based on juzas homeline on masumi's bday dialogue btw,, im so late posting this sorry i meant to post it on his bday but never did ALSO hnnn jumasu

Masumi laid serenely in the grass. 

The sun scattered across his skin, the beams peering through the thick tree leaves shimmering across his skin and splattering gold across his pale expanse — he looked positively ethereal in the light. His lips were sealed shut, with his soft inhales and exhales inaudible in the day's breeze. Juza noted that he looked pretty. He looked as pretty as he did other days, but especially so.

The weather felt pleasant, but Masumi's black jacket laid over his curled body, sheilding his figure from the gentle breeze. The breeze could easily change its tide, and this was no place for him to be sleeping when that did happen, but he wasn't about to move. Innate laziness and exhaustion pulling at his bones, mind and eyes closed.

Juza could only tell he was asleep with a close look, his body relaxed for once as he sunk deep in rest. He took a moment to stay there, contemplating for a moment. Deciding to throw thought out of the window, Juza knelt down beside the still figure, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

Masumi didn't startle, so he shook his shoulder. He shook his shoulder again, pushing harder than he intended to. The shoulder yanked away from him, and Masumi lifted his head up, looking for the source of the interruption, a tiny fire in his eyes.

"—What?" Masumi huffed, whipping his head up out of nowhere, gritting his teeth and clearly groggy in the few seconds it took to rise.

"You shouldn't sleep here," His voice echoed loud enough to startle Masumi and anyone in their vicinity, if there were people.

Masumi gave him a perplexed look. It didn't look threatening compared to the faces he'd seen at the malls. 

Juza continued, "Somebody might step on you,"

Masumi stared back, almost glaring. He could've been sleeping for longer, swimming in daydreams about his and the directors future life, but somebody interrupted him. He wasn't thinking of her in his dreams, but he could've been. Maybe. Sleep was nice, and he wasn't about to ignore it.

Soft silence fell between them, Juza then watching him lay his head back on the grass. Somebody could trip over him, Misumi, Muku — his room wasn't a far distance. Masumi would get better sleep in his bed. 

"Get up," It wouldn't be his fault if somebody stepped on him. It would be his own damn fault that he laid in the grass. 

And in the moment he'd looked away, Masumi was asleep again. So that was a no for an answer.

He poked him. Nothing. He contemplated for a second, then discarded his thoughts. Well, whatever, it wasn't like Masumi cared about being carried. Maybe he was like Hisoka in that aspect, their traits of napping in precarious places and being stoically silent being distinct similarities. 

Juza shrugged and maneuvered an arm under his knees and one to lift his back and pulled his arms up, lifting Masumi's weight towards his chest. He probably wouldn't take well to being thrown over his shoulder like a potato sack.

Jolting, Masumi shifted. Juza tensed, then relaxed when he saw the whites of his eyes, purple darting across his body as he wordlessly came to a conclusion. He was being carried. 

Masumi relaxed, sparing a half-hearted glare. Then, his face dropped and the attitude melted.

That was odd. Juza shrugged it off. He said nothing; he never had much of anything to say, and this was no different. 

Masumi felt too groggy to speak. Words sat in his throat as a lump, and he wasn't inclined to speak. Instead, he distracted himself by getting comfortable in the bridal carry, trying not to stare. He did anyway.

Juza's arms were toned, an arm curled under Masumi's legs, the other supporting his back, warm and nice. Masumi kept shifting in his arms, seemingly unphased by being carried, or at least to the viewing world. 

Masumi wasn't so sure if he was unphased. If he leaned closer he'd be able to hear his heartbeat or see the fine details in his skin, though the view of his face was fine. More than fine, actually. He looked _quite_ fine. If he rested his head on his shoulder, Juza would more than likely let him rest there, and it wouldn't be so bad.

Masumi swallowed. 

Okay, so apparently he wasn't unaffected. It didn't matter though, as the occasional glance his way meant that Juza was more focused on carrying him, eyes alert and trained on whatever would be in front of them. 

Watching the ground as Juza walked with him in his arms, he felt them get closer and closer, trying to keep his face from showing his clearly flushed color. The door to his shared room opened, Juza maneuvering to grab the handle. 

Adjusting his hold, Juza shifted one arm away, resting Masumi's weight on one arm. Masumi looked down, feeling his body bounce as Juza climbed the rungs, setting him down as softly as he could — which wasn't that soft — onto his bed. He wasn't sure exactly how he carried him so easily, but he watched his arms flex and tense, and felt his face burn. He was more distracted by the heat, like protection around him, left.

Juza climbed on as he scooted up, grabbing the blanket and moving under it while he threw off his jacket. For a moment, he wondered how his clothes would look on Masumi and how engulfed by the fabrics he would be. He quickly pushed the thought away, saving the embarrassment from crawling into his cheeks. 

  
Staring at him, Masumi noted how rugged he looked. Juza's eyes were like flashlights in the dark, yellow and bright, but faded just as quick as they came, the eyes drifting away as Juza straightened his back, staring at Masumi from the end of his bed, then looked away. He was keeping his distance. 

"You should sleep now," Juza mumbled, voice almost inaudible as he gave a small nod. 

Masumi stared back, eyes following the contours of his cheeks, the hardened expression from a few moments of labor. But with his build it wouldn't be considered labour, or at least not a strenous task— Masumi pushed the thought into the back of his head.

Masumi nodded. He didn't want to sleep, he was busy staring, but he still felt groggy.

Juza coughed into his fist, a hand resting at the back of his neck as he spoke quietly, "And, uh... Happy Birthday," 

His expression was nice like that— softened, eyes averted, a shaky, lopsided smile on his face. A lesser man would think of it as intimidating, but it wasn't. It was barely there, but it was. 

"...Thanks," 

If he looked close enough, he could see the smile grow. He wasn't, though. He was staring at his own hand

"Yeah.." Juza scratched at the back of his neck, and Masumi looked up awkwardly.

Staring at nothing for a second, he blinked, then sighed, starting to make his way down the ladder, eyes glued to the black planks. Each step downwards was featherweight, the brush of his broad palms and strong arms not so much as bringing a squeak from the wood— only a creak from the old oak floors as it supported the weight. Masumi's eyes flickered from his broad shoulders to his muscled legs, watching as they descended the lower steps, and on the second-to-last rung Juza dangled a leg towards the floor, a tight grip on the ladder keeping him in place, then set himself down onto the floor with a quiet thump against the wood. 

He was quiet, though outspoken and energized. Juza was more of an overgrown puppy or a ballerina than a delinquent... or something like that.

Masumi shook his head, heat rising to his cheeks as he groaned to himself. His fingers threaded through the expensive material and he pulled it up to his chest, eyes flickering back to the empty doorway, then to the empty cieling.

Juza.

He lifted his fingers to the blanket once more, knuckles growing white with frustration and confusion. Raising the sheet above his nose and to his eyes, the fabric brushed against his skin, and the cold of the blanket absorbed the heat from his cheeks or at least alleviated it. Masumi sunk into the mattress, exhaustion and a concoction of emotions tempting him to close his eyes. Getting rest would distract him from the strange circles and thoughts running astray in his body and mind— or at least he hoped so.

He did.


End file.
